shimmered back into focus as he dropped his Blackstaff illusion. He reached to the rough table beneath the window and handed his father the tome Samark had brought with him out of Khelben the Elder's tomb. The sigil on the cover matched the one on the kid leather bundle.
Ten-Rings muttered, 'That book's protections proved beyond our skills.'
His hands out of Khondar's sight, Centiv clenched his fists in frustration against the constant jabs. He had spent eleven days more than Khondar studying the tomes, and he knew the words and letters just swam about, as if he tried to read the book through a foot of wind-shimmered water. When he could catch a recognizable letter or sigil, he could only tell it was a word in Dwarvish, the next in Elvish, another in some form of Draconic. Centiv hated that his father rushed to judge what was beyond Centiv's skills when Khondar's own proved lacking.
'I know, Father.' Centiv said. 'But given that sigils on the covers match, perhaps this can help us with the book.' Centiv unwrapped the kid leather to reveal a hand-sized lens of clear amber crystal.
Khondar snatched the crystal away from Centiv with a growl and held the crystal over the first page of the tome. Through the lens, the page swam as usual, but after a moment, both could see the letters stop shimmering and settle into place. Better still, the letters reformed into Common, and both men read the title.
Lore and Awareness of the Dark Archmage's Acolytes: On the Assumption of Power as the Blackstaff or the Blackstaffs Heir.
Beneath the title page were five signatures-Khelben Arunsun, Tsarra Chaadren, KyrianiAgrivar, Krehlan Arunsun, and Ashemmon ofRhymanthiin-and their wizard marks after them.
Laughing loudly, Khondar threw an arm around Centiv's shoulders, a move from which his son initially flinched before smiling at the show of paternal pride.
'You've done it!' Khondar said. 'You've found the way we can make the Blackstaffs power our own! Now if we can just make sure that Tethyrian bitch stays out of the way…'
'In a way, I did so earlier today…' Centiv's flush of pride deepened as he thought about the report his agent Charrar brought to him the previous dawn. While he bristled at the costs in lives and gold, Centiv was grateful he had had to silence only one agent instead of six to cover his tracks. He marveled at the luck Renaer and his friends seemed to have. They had very nearly caught him, all thanks to that skinny witch's muting spell. Before this was over, Centiv knew he had to rip the secret of that spell from her, both to resist it and to exploit it. With that spell, he might even force his father to acknowledge him as an equal…
Dagrol, the Watch armar, entered Shank Alley along with an accompanying wizard of the Watchful Order, both of them with their staves at the ready. The five other Watchmen were either in
Ail the alley already or at either end, keeping folk from entering and disturbing the scene. Dagrol approached his firstblade and asked, 'Who found her, Barlak?'
'He did,' the watchman pointed at a young boy taller than Dagrol. Despite the cold, the boy wore no shirt beneath his apron, and his muscles showed Dagrol he was used to hauling around loads of heavy fish. 'His name's Karel.'
'Talk to him, would you?' Dagrol asked the wizard at his side, who nodded and walked away. 'Where's the victim?'
Dagrol's impatience was well-known by his patrol, and the young man nodded up the alley to the left. Dagrol found his best vigilant assessing the scene. Tasmia looked up at him, gray eyes somber and haunted.
The body lay tucked against the rough rear exterior of the Filleted Filliar hearthouse. The woman's body had been shoved roughly behind and beneath large stacks of discarded garbage, fish guts, and other assorted offal. Her body was a mass of welts, scars, and wounds, but Dagrol's eyes fell on two wounds in particular.
A dagger jutted out of her right eye, and a short sword had been driven up beneath her ribs and directly into her heart. The blades were ornately decorated along the hilts.
'You ever seen work like that before?' Dagrol asked Tasmia, who knelt beside the body.
'The killing blows, yeah,' Tasmia said. 'Standard moves to make sure someone's definitely dead, despite all other wounds. Overly showy blades are all the rage right now among the rich, too. The details on that basket-hilt sword, though, give up our suspect right away.'
'Who is it?'
'Well, those arms-the bear's claw atop a diamond, all atop a field with three stripes from dexter to sinister- belong to the Neverembers. Unless you think the Open Lord's killing women in alleys these days, I'd say we need to find young Renaer Neverember.
And we'd better do it quickly.' Tasmia pulled a rough woolen blanket over the body, and whispered a quick prayer. 'Selune keep her soul safe from the predators that claimed this body.'
'Aye.' Dagrol nodded, sighing deeply. 'Anybody else recognize her?'
'Just me, Dag,' Tasmia said as she stood, brushing mud off her leathers. 'She's Vajra Safahr, lover and heir of the Archmage of the City. If we want justice served, we'd better arrest Renaer and any accomplices before the Blackstaff finds them.'
'Gods help us if that happens.' Dagrol shuddered. 'If he's like his mentor Ashemmon at all, we'll need a lot more gravediggers.'
CHAPTER 9
No one ever knew what happened to old Varad Brandarth. Many said he went mad. I knew he was mad before the Spellplague, so it couldn't have been that. I suspect he had one or three hidden safeholds of which only he knew.
10 Nightal, Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)
Renaer stepped into darkness. His footsteps echoed loudly. 'Kamatar,' he said, and fires flared to life in the two hearths on opposite sides of the room.
Vajra stirred in his arms and opened her eyes. Renaer flinched as he saw her eyes waver between the red- black maelstrom orbs and normal eyes of different colored irises. She grimaced, creasing her brow, and her eyes briefly focused into almond-shaped eyes of deep mahogany brown.
'Where am I holding me wait aren't you no a friend carry a vampire's victim?' she said.
Vharem appeared behind them, followed by Laraelra and Meloon. All of them stumbled slightly when they apparated.
Vajra, whose attention shifted quickly to look over the new arrivals. 'I don't know…' Vajra tapped Renaer on his shoulder and pointed down with her eyes.
'Welcome to Varadras, milady Safahr, everyone,' Renaer said, setting her on her feet. Renaer noticed the others looking around the room, but the skies beyond the windows were dark, and snow and ice covered much of their openings. Renaer said, 'Palnethar,' and torches flared ro life on each wall and inside a long hallway leading out of it. Cobwebs covered many surfaces and corners, and the chamber warmed now only due to the presence of the hearthfires.
'Neat trick, Renaer,' Vharem said. 'You never told us you were studying wizardry.'
'Varad taught you don't know where how we'll survive when you are mage?' Vajra said, and while she rambled, she approached and touched Renaer, her fingers glowing with magic. 'No he casts not words for any safehouse fine for now don't trust it calm down among friends.' Renaer heard her voice change inflections and pitch as she spoke. Her eyes shifted as well, flitting between different colors and shades of gray, brown, green, purple, and a dark blue. Still, she stood steadily, looking around the room and smiling.
'You knew Varad?' Renaer asked.
Vajra's only response was an arched eyebrow and a nod of her head toward Vharem.
Renaer remembered how frustrating it was to talk to wizards who liked their secrets. 'She's right, if I understood her correctly,' her said. 'I'm not a wizard, but I've been studying up on this place and my ancestor who
